


Good Bot, Bad Bot

by weabooweedwitch



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Immobility, Minor Character Death, Paralysis, Polyamory, Self-Harm, Yandere, im not sure what to tag it but he uses a discord orb so you cant move
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 02:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16945365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weabooweedwitch/pseuds/weabooweedwitch
Summary: Kidnapped and forced to live with a pair of strangers, your mental health is quickly going into a steep decline. Your captors are not pleased to discover that old habits die hard, and decide to take matters into their own hands. For your sake.





	Good Bot, Bad Bot

Zenyatta never hurt you, but he was the one you feared the most.

A gentle voice that used to soothe you now causes your heart to palpitate with anxiety the second it reaches your ears. It was always hard to guess what he was going to do to you, what the Shambali monk possibly wanted whenever he so much as entered the same room. He must need something from you, you would sometimes simply assume; it seemed like he ALWAYS did.

But if Zenyatta were to hum with concern upon seeing you withdraw from his words of love or physical gestures of affection, if you were so bold as to skitter away as soon as the omnic came in, well… it always tugged at something inside that he almost couldn’t describe.

He had to make it up to you. You HAD to be happy. The omnic was giving you time to adjust before attempting anything, but it was waning on his patience and his confidence. You were already so despondent when he’d met you; a change of pace was considered very much necessary, for your own safety. Having his student take you by surprise, knocking you out for transport, was perhaps a little drastic by normal standards, but for them it was completely justified.

Speaking of said student, very early on in your captivity had you been introduced to Genji, someone who, apparently, respected the twisted pacifist that he referred to as ‘teacher’ or ‘master’. It’s very easy to tell his respect for Zenyatta is genuine, if not to an unsettling degree of devotion when you’re made aware that this is the man who’s been preparing your meals. When you first meet the cyborg doesn’t remove his faceplate, but politely greets you before hushing himself away for another task.

You’d thought Genji only had feelings for Zenyatta, since the Japanese man kept his presence much more subdued, usually sticking to observing your actions quietly almost like a watchdog for the Shambali. You were to be proven wrong soon enough.

Initially, one of the things that sickened you most about this entire thing was how the two men handled the situation and, obviously, you. Since day one, Zenyatta spouted claims of love and wanting to help take all your stress and pain away, but what could they hope to do? You hated them, were  _terrified_  of them. How could you love someone like that back? You didn’t, you couldn’t; you could hardly even look at either one of them without feeling absolutely sick.

 

The two of them had no idea what they were dealing with if they thought you could all just be a happy little crew.

 

You were washing the dishes by hand from an earlier meal, a glance around confirming the presence of a man who always snuck silently into the room. Genji had spoken few little words to you in the entirety of this ordeal, currently sitting with his head slightly bowed, perhaps meditating while he watched over you.

 

Why did one of them always have to hover? It was so unnerving.

 

Not paying attention to your task, you’d taken just a brief second to glare at the cyborg when part of your arm dipped under the hot running water you were using to rinse off soap and food. It already would have been a temperature that hurt, and this was only increased by the presence of something hiding under your long sleeves.

 

“Ouch-!”

 

The pained gasp that left your mouth was brief but Genji appeared at your side within seconds. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

 

He reached for your hand but you’re quick to jerk away from him entirely, stepping back and careful of how you moved. “Th-the water was just hot, it’s fine.” You try to play it off, but it’s hard to even talk a level-pitch to your captor and he knows all the better. “Did you cut yourself on something in the sink?” The ninja inquires again, his tone implying he thinks it’s simply an accident as he takes a step forward. “Let me see.”

 

“It’s fine!” You try not to answer so quickly but your nerves are getting the best of you, and with agitation you step back and roughly bump into the kitchen counter, essentially cornered as Genji tilts his head ever so slightly. It isn’t being hit you’re concerned about when an expert move from the man quickly snags your wrist and you yelp at his strong grip as metal fingers clamp down on the sensitive area. Such a noise only eggs on his suspicion and your sleeve is shoved higher up on your arm to expose your skin.

 

“What is this?” He’s quick to ask, voice kicking up in pitch and emotion.

 

This was probably the worst possible scenario you had foreseen as Genji’s eyes locked on the tender, scabbing cuts on your wrist. Nothing deep, but recent.  _Too_  recent.

 

“This-this is from before-”

 

“ **No, it’s not.** ”

 

Genji raises his voice and it makes you flinch. You open your mouth to speak but he’s already already rushing out of the room. Oh god,  _oh god oh god oh god_ , you can only imagine what he’s going to do, but there was always one thing you knew was  _going_  to be involved. One certain person.

 

There’s nowhere in the room or in your living quarters at all to hide when the ninja returns with his omnic teacher and you can’t even bring yourself to watch the two approach, knuckles turning white as you anxiously clench your hands in your lap from where you now sat on the sofa. 

 

You won’t even look up as the two men stand before you and their presence makes your skin crawl. “Beloved,” Zenyatta begins, his voice as level as always. “is what Genji told me to be true after all? Will you not even raise your eyes to meet mine?”

 

Yeah, basically. Even if you weren’t about to get some twisted equivalent of a scolding it wasn’t like you gave a damn about what the monk thought or felt anyways. Still the omnic’s silence is ominous. You’d expected some sort of pious lecture on how what you did was wrong or some sort of threat of punishment but Zenyatta was giving you _nothing._ Did he plan to simply stand there until you caved and spoke?

 

“Won’t you talk to us? Tell us why?” Genji murmurs as you try to pretend neither of them are there, simply staring down at your nervously fidgeting hands. As the shinobi reaches to cup your cheek, you simply crane your neck out of his touch.

 

The three of you had had conversations like this before, though never because of _this_ reason, but these men never seemed to listen to you anyways. Maybe they thought they could fix you by snatching you away, isolating you into this controlled, monitored little paradise with just the two of them. 

 

They couldn’t make you feel any less empty and hollow inside, even if you did feel something for the pair. Which you didn’t. At all. 

 

When Zenyatta speaks you can only glance up, the Shambali calmly clasping his hands within each other. “I can see a simple discussion is not what you require.” A brief touch on the arm to his student and Genji merely nods, not that you were paying any attention to them to notice. You were just going to let them leave when the omnic takes the hand of your wounded wrist, pushing up your sleeve and all the while, no matter how hard you pull, he will not relent his hold.

 

His metal fingers are surprisingly warm as they carefully smooth over the healing flesh to survey the damage himself, heart breaking as his love refuses to acknowledge his presence with you turning your head to the side and staring off into the distance with dead eyes. 

 

 Zenyatta’s grip suddenly tightened to the point it hurt, something he’d never done and an action that shocked you into finally meeting his gaze. “ **This will not do.** ” His tone scared you, those glowing orbs on the omnic’s forehead briefly turning red. Seeing the normally so docile Shambali change so drastically raised the hairs on your skin with a chill, and at seeing your frightened expression, the monk relinquishes his hold, stepping back to stand beside his student as you clutch your throbbing wrist to your body protectively.

 

“We will return shortly.” Zenyatta is quick to state, turning his back to you, though that silver head turned to just barely look over his shoulder. “I believe it goes without saying that this will be dealt with then.”

 

 _There_ was the threat you were expecting; the omnic’s unique brand of passive tyranny. He never hit or insulted you for any and all defiance, and by your guess it seemed like he much preferred to try and sway you with his words. Violence was never his answer.

 

Or so you thought.

 

When you lied down it had been in the bed that was given to you but that  _certainly_  was not where you awoke. Your eyes opened at the sensation of touch, two pairs of hands, one stroking through your hair while the other set tended to your arm. You sit up, alarmed, surprised to find that Genji is the one behind you loving brushing through your locks with his fingers, Zenyatta the one securing a bandage, a familiar sting alerting you to the presence of medicine of some sort applied to your cuts. 

“You’re awake.” The monk greets, keeping your hand clutched between his own, rubbing a thumb across the soft skin. “We were concerned to see you unconscious upon our return, but were both quite relieved to see you were merely resting.”

 

You say nothing, sitting up and taking a look around, but your surroundings do nothing to alleviate your stress. The room is one you don't recognize and  _completely empty_ , save for the lightsource overhead. Considering the level of care the two men had taken with you up until this point, this was extremely suspicious.

 

A pair of arms encircle around your body from behind, holding and cradling you carefully like a precious egg. “We’re worried for your safety, beloved.” Genji states in a hushed voice, feeling him nuzzle against you. “You… understand that’s why you’re here, yes? So that no harm comes to you. You’ll be safe with us.”

There was a mechanical sound of some kind, and you feel a pair of lips press against your neck, the man’s voice hushed. “We love you so much, our treasure.”

 

You felt something twist in your stomach.

 

“Justshut _up_.” 

 

Your tone makes their respective moments still. You feel Genji’s embrace falter and drop, Zenyatta relinquishing your hand, and you use this to stand, putting distance between you and your tormentors. “I-I-I just can’t _believe_ either one of you!” You can’t help but snap. “After all you’re doing you’re trying to say you love me? I don’t even know you! You don’t even know  _me_!”

 

Both of them were swift to stand in case you tried something, Zenyatta raising his hands peacefully. “Now, now, beloved, calm yourself. There’s no need-”

 

“No!” You shout. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child!” Your captors have yet to see you this upset as you raise your voice, tears of frustration streaming down your cheeks. “You take me from my  _home_ , my _life_ , I don’t even know where I am...! I’m just supposed to smile and cuddle and act like it’s all ok and it’s not! It’s  _never_  been ok!!” Your hands were clenching hard into fists and goddamn did you just want to hit the two of them and suddenly you’re sobbing. “I hate you…I hate both of you _so much_ …”

 

“B-but-” Genji sounds more uncertain and shaky than what you’ve become accustomed to. The ninja who -had never once been affectionate with you up until this point- began to reach out as if to touch you, when Zenyatta puts a hand on his shoulder. Your constant rejection was crushing the cyborg and his mentor knew it, though as much as he wanted to comfort you, Genji complies, staying back to see what it is his teacher would like to do.

 

The barren room is silent for a few moments save for your sniffles and tears, and you’d been wiping at your eyes when the Shambali monk cautiously approached. “It has occurred to us,” The mentor starts once your crying has eased some. “that perhaps you cannot see yourself as we do. That you do things such as this,” Zenyatta squeezes the hand of your wounded wrist softly, seemingly oblivious to your discomfort at his touch as you tried to pull away. “because you do not value yourself as you would another.” 

He wasn’t telling you anything you didn’t already know, but where he was leading with this was filling you with dread, and for some reason it was becoming harder for you to move as you felt heavy and sluggish. On your feet you stood but any attempt to take a step or even adjust your footing is for naught, and Zenyatta is calm at your worried expression as a familiar ornate metal sphere, glowing an otherworldly ethereal shade of purple, briefly passes into your field of vision before orbiting behind you again.

 

You knew the Shambali had some sort of arcane skills but the fact that he was literally draining you of your strength was  **downright horrifying**. You try to move but you can't and it only enhances your terror. _Why can't you move?!_

 

“I was hoping things would not come to this, but you seem adverse to discussion. Genji,” Zenyatta turned to look at his pupil. “please retrieve our guest.”

 

...Guest? Your eyes widen, fear growing, heart pounding. Your lips part in a fretful question and yet not a sound comes out.

 

“You see, in my experience, it’s often easier for feel compassion for another, rather than oneself.” The omnic began to circle like a shark in the water, and you couldn’t watch when he disappears behind you. “So perhaps if you were to… see your situation as another, it would help to  _enlighten_ you.”

 

There was hardly any time to ask the monk what he possibly could’ve meant before the second of your tormentors re-enters the room, the familiar white-and-green shinobi dragging behind him-

 

Your blood froze, stomach curdling. Behind him Genji was dragging a stranger, their cries for help suffocated by a cloth shoved into their mouth. You had no idea who they could have been but frightened eyes full of tears look up to you begging for help. You’re still frozen with shock and confusion when a metallic grating sound snaps your focus to the cyborg who was slowly and noisily unsheathing a blade.

 

All the pieces click for you instantly.

 

“No!” You cried out, apparently still capable of speech as Genji hauled the new captive up by their hair so they sat upright on their knees. “No!! Please!!”

 

Genji is sure to keep the hostage held still as they screamed through their gag and you’re shocked at Zenyatta’s silence until you come to the conclusion that they must have made this decision  _together_. 

 

“I’m  _begging_  you, don’t do this!” You plead again. “Please! Genji! 

 

The tonto was held firmly as the ninja stepped behind the struggling captive, and you can tell by the way his free hand grabs the newcomer’s bound hands what’s coming next.

 

You shut your eyes but you couldn’t unhear the  _shing_ , the wet splash, and the muffled shrieking that immediately followed, and from behind a delicate metal hand raises your chin for you, holding it firmly in place. “No,” Zenyatta corrected. “ _look at it_.”

 

Bile threatened to rise in your throat as in fear you looked upon the crumpled form before you, the stranger’s struggling to get up or get their restraints free slowly becoming weaker and weaker, their own blood pooling underneath them and soaking into their clothes as they wriggled helplessly on the floor. The cloth gag could not hope to completely block out their weak protests and groans of pain as their life slowly slipped away. Genji waited for them to die as insignificantly as a squashed insect as he keeps his eyes _solely_ on you.

 

“What if that had been you?” Zenyatta’s soothing voice eventually chimed in as you coughed and choked on your own tears, near hysterical. “If your hand had slipped, if you had cut too deep…” The omnic made some sort of wistful sound, shaking his head. “I can’t bear to even  _think_  of any harm coming to you.”

 

Zenyatta cradles your face, an action you don’t dare to resist. “Do you see how serious this is now, love?” He asks. “This isn’t going to happen again, is it?” 

 

You can only nod as you begin to sob, and the mech pulls you in close to his chest to hold you as you cry, even if he was the reason.

 

This lesson may have been harsh, but to both of them, it was necessary. The relief that you would not be harming yourself again vastly overruled your distressed crying as the two of them held you for the rest of the night.


End file.
